I'll Sleep when I'm Dead.

You guys. This has been the longest week ever. We've finally decided to try and get Tiny on a schedule. Internet friends, don't wait until your child is six months old to get them on a consistent sleep/awake schedule. Just don't do it. At least not if your kid is as stubborn as mine.

 We've spent the better part of this week trying to get her away from the habit of going to sleep at night, waking up three hours later, and spending the rest of the night in our bed, nursing every 45 minutes. I won't lie to you, people of the internet, it's been rough. In the past (long, long ago, last week), I would get up when she cried, make sure her diaper wasn't wet, and bundle her off to our bed where we would cozy up together under the fluffy down comforter and drift back to sleep.

Now, I hear her cry. I lay there for a few minutes trying to psyche myself up enough to drag out of  my soft, warm bed to swathe myself in a sweatshirt, get her out of the crib, change her diaper (which probably isn't wet anyway, but I'm going to change it just because it could be a little bit damp, making her cold and waking her up), and settle into the uncomfortable rocking chair to nurse and fight soothe her back to sleep. What used to be a five, maybe ten minute disturbance is now at least an hour long ordeal.

It's the worst. (I'll save the nap time drama for another post.)

I have to give credit to Bob, though. He'll come join me after she's done nursing and is attempting to gum my fun bags to death while I try to get her take the pacifier, and we both cry (she screams more than I do). He is super helpful, but I'm usually so zombified that I just growl at him. But it has gotten a little better every night. Sunday night, we were up twice, for an hour each time. Same deal Monday night. Last night she slept three hours, woke up for an hour, slept for six hours, woke up for an hour, slept for another two and half.

It was super.

The last two and half were spent in our bed, but I didn't care because I got to snap this picture of her and Bob sleeping. She's definitely his kid. (See that burp rag? She'll occasionally spit up in her sleep. Another reason to get her out of our bed and into her own.)

That was a long post with a lot of "woe-is-me" nonsense. This is real life.

It's not been all crying and sleeplessness, though. I've also spent this week preparing for my strip-piecing class. It's going to be a lot of fun. These are my samples. They're going to be turned into a big, quilty pillow that's going to live at someone's house when all is said and done.

Assembled bundles. They're so happy. I dipped into some of my Tula Pink and Heather Ross horde for them, lucky people.

And I finally finished January!! It felt like it took me forever, but I'm so happy with it. I did all of my snowflakes with sparkle floss instead of white and added extra because I could.Those little deer and such little dears. (HA!)

The Girl Scouts delivered cookies this week. Is it just me, or is Girl Scout cookie time the only thing that makes the end of winter bearable? We get to enjoy Christmas and New Year's then suffer through January, and it's frigid nastiness. The big furry rodent comes out of his hole, bearing the bad news that there are six freaking weeks of winter left, little monster. We'll just skip over Valentine's Day. Maybe I'll tell you how I feel about Valentine's Day next year, but for now, let's just say I don't like it.

Then, out of the gloom rise the girls in green uniforms bearing little boxes of heaven. I don't know what it is about cuddling up on the couch with a big mug of tea and a small hill of Samoas that makes the dreary countdown to March a little less hateful, but it just does.

It would appear, however that there are fewer Thin Mints in a sleeve than years past. Are the Girl Scouts being trained in how to run a small business or how to be tiny scam artists? Only time will tell. There are 16 cookies in a full sleeve this year. You better believe I'm going to count again next year.

The final big accomplishment for this week was getting a high chair. Tiny Girl has been trying to escape from her Bumbo and bouncy seats for weeks now. It was time to upgrade her to something with a harness and sides that are too high for her to worm her way out of. She likes it. It allows her to be up on the same level as the big people and still be contained. Win-win.

Well, that is all I have for you today. Thank you for putting up with my long absence. I wish I could send you all boxes of Tagalongs as a treat for being nice.

XOXO
Ana

Weekend Things

I realize that it has been almost a week since my last post, and there's a really good chance I've lost the attention of the three people that read this blog, but I will persist all the same because the world needs my words! (Not really, but the egocentric part of me likes to think so.)

We had a busy weekend, but I still managed to get some crafting done. I finished one of the deer for my January frame of the Frosted Pumpkin Stitchery's Woodland Sampler. I still have one deer, 15 snowflakes, and a word to finish before I can move onto February. I'm a painfully slow careful cross-stitcher. And yes, those are reading glasses in that picture. I need them for small work and extended periods of reading or computer time. I was stitching on the couch one evening last week and my husband looked over, stared for a minute then asked "How old are you?" In real life? 23. Deep down inside? 75.

I also made Tiny the cutest pair of Big Butt Baby Pants out of Pokey Little Puppy flannel. They're so stinking adorable. She wore them two days in a row, and that's why there's no picture of them. I couldn't get her to lay still long enough to get a picture, and I didn't want to deal with the drama of taking them off of her, snapping a picture, and putting them back on. There's too much screaming involved for that nonsense.

Speaking of our Tiny Girl, she had her half birthday on Sunday. I can't believe she's six  months old. It doesn't seem real. Here are pictures of her being cute:

We took a half birthday walk as a family. Bob insisted I let him carry her. Backpack time is her favorite. She can pull hair and look at the world at the same time. Baby bliss.

We met up with friends from church last night so the menfolk could plan the service, and the ladies could talk about...whatever it is we talk about. It's a lot about the babies, actually. One of the other couples have a four month that is bigger than Tiny. So we're forever comparing them and laughing at the strange things they do. Ok, strange things Tiny does. She's always trying to grab her little friend's face and hair bows and toys. We've preemptively apologized for any hitting/biting/stealing of toys Tiny does when they're older. She's just wild and curious and wants what she wants. We're going to have a lot of fun with that stubborn personality when she's older.

She did settle down after I gave her the top of my bread bowl. She chewed on it for a long time before it fell on the floor, and we all got to hear how sad she was.

We had to be up bright and early for her six month check up yesterday morning, and I ended up giving her my phone while she was in the car seat just so I wouldn't have to hear her scream all the way to the pediatrician. She has apparently figured out how to work the camera, as I found this picture while going through my photos this morning. She's too smart for her own good.

So, there's that. I'm preparing a carefully worded rant against hashtags for tomorrow, but now my lunch break is almost over, and I still haven't finished eating my chicken and noodle soup. (I forgot my spoon and am having to eat it with a fork. Soup with a fork? Ridiculous.)

Have a happy, sunshiney rest of your Tuesday.
XO
Ana